CHAPTER III.
_Of that design which Don Sanchez opened to us at the Bell._
We pulled our pipes from our mouths, Dawson and I, and stretched ourears very eager to know what this business was the Don had to propound,and he, after drawing two or three mouthfuls of smoke, which he expelledthrough his nostrils in a most surprising unnatural manner, says inexcellent good English, but speaking mighty slow and giving every letterits worth:
"What do you go to do to-morrow?"
"The Lord only knows," answers Jack, and Don Sanchez, lifting hiseyebrows as if he considers this no answer at all, he continues: "Wecannot go hence with none of our stage things; and if we could, I seenot how we are to act our play, now that our villain is gone, with aplague to him! I doubt but we must sell all that we have for the fewshillings they will fetch to get us out of this hobble."
"With our landlord's permission," remarks Don Sanchez, dryly.
"Permission!" cries Dawson, in a passion. "I ask no man's permission todo what I please with my own."
"Suppose he claims these things in payment of the money you owe him.What then?" asks the Don.
"We never thought of that, Kit," says Dawson, turning to me in a pucker."But 'tis likely enough he has, for I observed he was mighty carelesswhether we found our thief or not. That's it, sure enough. We havenought to hope. All's lost!"
With that he drops his elbows on his knees, and stares into the firewith a most desponding countenance, being in that stage of liquor when aman must either laugh or weep.
"Come, Jack," says I. "You are not used to yield like this. Let us makethe best of a bad lot, and face the worst like men. Though we trudgehence with nothing but the rags on our backs, we shall be no worse offto-morrow than we were this morning."
"Why, that's true enough!" cries he, plucking up his courage. "Let thethieving rascal take our poor nag and our things for his payment, andmuch good may they do him. We will wipe this out of our memory themoment we leave his cursed inn behind us."
It seemed to me that this would not greatly advance us, and maybe DonSanchez thought the same, for he presently asks:
"And what then?"
"Why, Senor," replies Dawson, "we will face each new buffet as it comes,and make a good fight of it till we're beat. A man may die but once."
"You think only of yourselves," says the Don, very quietly.
"And pray, saving your Senor's presence, who else should we think of?"
"The child above," answers the Don, a little more sternly than he hadyet spoken. "Is a young creature like that to bear the buffets you areso bold to meet? Can you offer her no shelter from the wind and rain butsuch as chance offers? make no provision for the time when she is leftalone, to protect her against the evils that lie in the path offriendless maids?"
"God forgive me," says Jack, humbly. And then we could say nothing, forthinking what might befall Moll if we should be parted, but sat thereunder the keen eye of Don Sanchez, looking helplessly into the fire. Andthere was no sound until Jack's pipe, slipping from his hand, fell andbroke in pieces upon the hearth. Then rousing himself up and turning toDon Sanchez, he says:
"The Lord help her, Senor, if we find no good friend to lend us a fewshillings for our present wants."
"Good friends are few," says the Don, "and they who lend need somebetter security for repayment than chance. For my own part, I would assoon fling straws to a drowning man as attempt to save you and thatchild from ruin by setting you on your feet to-day only to fall againto-morrow."
"If that be so, Senor," says I, "you had some larger view in mind thanthat of offering temporary relief to our misery when you gave us asupper and Moll a bed for the night."
Don Sanchez assented with a grave inclination of his head, and going tothe door opened it sharply, listened awhile, and then closing it softly,returned and stood before us with folded arms. Then, in a low voice, notto be heard beyond the room, he questioned us very particularly as toour relations with other men, the length of time we had been wanderingabout the country, and especially about the tractability of Moll. And,being satisfied with our replies,--above all, with Jack's saying thatMoll would jump out of window at his bidding, without a thought to theconsequences,--he says:
"There's a comedy we might play to some advantage if you were minded totake the parts I give you and act them as I direct."
"With all my heart," cries Dawson. "I'll play any part you choose; andas to the directing, you're welcome to that, for I've had my fill of it.If you can make terms with our landlord, those things in the yard shallbe yours, and for our payment I'm willing to trust to your honour'sgenerosity."
"As regards payment," says the Don, "I can speak precisely. We shallgain fifty thousand pounds by our performance."
"Fifty thousand pounds," says Jack, as if in doubt whether he had heardaright. Don Sanchez bent his head, without stirring a line in his face.
Dawson took up his beaker slowly, and looked in it, to make sure that hewas none the worse for drink, then, after emptying it, to steady hiswits, he says again:
"Fifty thousand pounds."
"Fifty thousand pounds, if not more; and that there be no jealousies oneof the other, it shall be divided fairly amongst us,--as much for yourfriend as for you, for the child as for me."
"Pray God, this part be no more than I can compass," says Jack,devoutly.
"You may learn it in a few hours--at least, your first act."
"And mine?" says I, entering for the first time into the dialogue.
The Don hunched his shoulders, lifting his eyebrows, and sending twostreams of smoke from his nose.
"I scarce know what part to give you, yet," says he. "To be honest, youare not wanted at all in the play."
"Nay, but you must write him a part," says Dawson, stoutly; "if it bebut to bring in a letter--that I am determined on. Kit stood by us inill fortune, and he shall share better, or I'll have none of it, norMoll neither. I'll answer for her."
"There must be no discontent among us," says the Don, meaning thereby,as I think, that he had included me in his stratagem for fear I mightmar it from envy. "The girl's part is that which gives me mostconcern--and had I not faith in my own judgment--"
"Set your mind at ease on that score," cried Jack. "I warrant our Mollshall learn her part in a couple of days or so."
"If she learn it in a twelvemonth, 'twill be time enough."
"A twelvemonth," said Jack, going to his beaker again, forunderstanding. "Well, all's as one, so that we can get something inadvance of our payment, to keep us through such a prodigious study."
"I will charge myself with your expenses," says Don Sanchez; and then,turning to me, he asks if I have any objection to urge.
"I take it, Senor, that you speak in metaphor," says I; "and that this'comedy' is nought but a stratagem for getting hold of a fortune thatdoesn't belong to us."
Don Sanchez calmly assented, as if this had been the most innocentdesign in the world.
"Hang me," cries Dawson, "if I thought it was anything but a whimsey ofyour honour's."
"I should like to know if we may carry out this stratagem honestly,"says I.
"Aye," cries Jack. "I'll not agree for cutting of throats or breaking ofbones, for any money."
"I can tell you no more than this," says the Don. "The fortune we maytake is now in the hands of a man who has no more right to it than wehave."
"If that's so," says Jack, "I'm with you, Senor. For I'd as lief bustlea thief out of his gains as say my prayers, any day, and liefer."
"Still," says I, "the money must of right belong to some one."
"We will say that the money belongs to a child of the same age as Moll."
"Then it comes to this, Senor," says I, bluntly. "We are to rob thatchild of fifty thousand pounds."
"When you speak of robbing," says the Don, drawing himself up with muchdignity, "you forget that I am to play a part in this stratagem--I, DonSanchez del Castillo de Castelana."
"Fie, Kit, han't you
any manners?" cries Dick. "What's all this talk ofa child? Hasn't the Senor told us we are but to bustle a cheat?"
"But I would know what is to become of this child, if we take herfortune, though it be withheld from her by another," says I, beingexceeding obstinate and persistent in my liquor.
"I shall prove to your conviction," says the Don, "that the child willbe no worse off, if we take this money, than if we leave it in the handsof that rascally steward. But I see," adds he, contemptuously, "that forall your brotherly love, 'tis no such matter to you whether poor littleMolly comes to her ruin, as every maid must who goes to the stage, or isset beyond the reach of temptation and the goading of want."
"Aye, and be hanged to you, Kit!" cries Dawson.
"Tell me, Mr. Poet," continues Don Sanchez, "do you consider thissteward who defrauds that child of a fortune is more unfeeling than youwho, for a sickly qualm of conscience, would let slip this chance ofmaking Molly an honest woman?"
"Aye, answer that, Kit," adds Jack, striking his mug on the table.
"I'll answer you to-morrow morning, Senor," says I. "And whether I fallin with the scheme or not is all as one, since my help is not needed;for if it be to Moll's good, I'll bid you farewell, and you shall see menever again."
"Spoken like a man!" says Don Sanchez, "and a wise one to boot. Anenterprise of this nature is not to be undertaken without reflection,like the smoking of a pipe. If you put your foot forward, it must bewith the understanding that you cannot go back. I must have thatassurance, for I shall be hundreds of pounds out of pocket ere I can getany return for my venture."
"Have no fear of me or of Moll turning tail at a scarecrow," says Jack,adding with a sneer, "we are no poets."
"Reflect upon it. Argue it out with your friend here, whose scruples donot displease me, and let me know your determination when the last wordis said. Business carries me to London to-morrow; but you shall meet meat night, and we will close the business--aye or nay--ere supper."
With that he opens the door and gives us our congee, the most noble inthe world; but not offering to give us a bed, we are forced to go out ofdoors and grope our way through the snow to the cart-shed, and seek ashelter there from the wind, which was all the keener and more bitterfor our leaving a good fire. And I believe the shrewd Spaniard had putus to this pinch as a foretaste of the misery we must endure if werejected his design, and so to shape our inclinations to his.
Happily, the landlord, coming out with a lantern, and finding us by thechattering of our teeth, was moved by the consideration shown us by DonSanchez to relax his severity; and so, unlocking the stable door, hebade us get up into the loft, which we did, blessing him as if he hadbeen the best Christian in the world. And then, having buried ourselvesin hay, Jack Dawson and I fell to arguing the matter in question, Isticking to my scruples (partly from vanity), and he stoutly holdingt'other side; and I, being warmed by my own eloquence, and he not lessheated by liquor (having taken best part of the last bowl to his share),we ran it pretty high, so that at one point Jack was for lighting acandle end he had in his pocket and fighting it out like men. But,little by little, we cooled down, and towards morning, each giving waysomething, we came to the conclusion that we would have Don Sanchez showus the steward, that we might know the truth of his story (which Imisdoubted, seeing that it was but a roguish kind of game at best thathe would have us take part in), and that if we found all things as herepresented them, then we would accept his offer. And also we resolvedto be down betimes and let him know our determination before he set outfor London, to the end that we might not be left fasting all the day.But herein we miscalculated the potency of liquor and a comfortable bedof hay, for 'twas nine o'clock before either of us winked an eye, andwhen we got down, we learnt that Don Sanchez had been gone a full hour,and so no prospect of breaking our fast till nightfall.
Presently comes Moll, all fresh and pink from the house, and falls toexclaiming upon the joy of sleeping betwixt clean sheets in a featherbed, and could speak of nothing else, saying she would give all theworld to sleep so well every day of her life.
"Eh," whispers her father in my ear, "you see how luxuries do tempt thepoor child, and what kind of a bed she is like to lie in if our hopesmiscarry."
On which, still holding to my scruples, I says to Moll:
"'Tis easy to say you would give the world, Moll, but I know full wellyou would give nothing for all the comfort possible that was not yourown."
"Nay," says she, crossing her hands on her breast, and casting up hereyes with the look of a saint, "what are all the fruits of the earth toher who cannot take them with an easy conscience? Honesty is dearer tome than the bread of life."
Then, as Jack and I are looking at each other ruefully in the face atthis dash to our knavish project, she bursts into a merry peal oflaughter, like a set of Christmas bells chiming, whereupon we, turningabout to find the cause of her merriment, she pulls another demure face,and, slowly lifting her skirt, shows us a white napkin tied about herwaist, stuffed with a dozen delicacies she had filched from DonSanchez's table in coming down from her room.